Pure
by Jacinda
Summary: I was always lucky to have your friendship . . . I wish I would have told you that sooner,” I replied as I held her right ring finger. It was the only piece of skin seemingly untouched by medical equipment. It was the last pure thing left. NS Friendship


A/N: This is a story that I have been writing since May - I was never really sure where to take it. I know there are so many angsty Sara gets in a car accident stories (Including one or two that I have written), but I've decided to take another crack at it. Hope you all like it. -Jac

PS I'm still trying to map out a good ending for No Arguments. My clinical rotations have been a real beast lately so I haven't had much time for writing lately :(

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She was working double shifts to help swing out during my absence. She also managed to check up on me three to four times a week. Her visits weren't long, but it gave me someone to play videogames against until her exhaustion forced her to leave. I looked forward to seeing Sara as much as I looked forward to having lunch with Warrick on a daily basis. It was what gave me consistency. It was consistency that was badly needed.

I knew something was wrong when Grissom stood on my doorstep at eight in the morning. It was raining. It never rained in Las Vegas. Grissom stood exposed in the elements; he didn't seem ready to move. He hesitated when I invited him in. Everything seemed out of character that morning. I knew something was wrong the minute the rain began to pelt the otherwise arid desert.

Grissom made benign small talk. He didn't do a good job pretending to be interested in my answers. I could see that his mind was somewhere else. When I reached for the remote control to turn on the morning news, Grissom put his hand on top of mine. That's when he told me why he stood outside my door in the rain.

_I'm sorry that I have to tell you this. I'm sorry that any of this actually had to happen. I know you have been spending a lot of time with Sara lately. There was a car accident. Nick, it's not good. It's not good at all._

He waited for me to stutter something unintelligible before finishing the story.

_I don't know what happened. I'm letting days process the scene. Greg . . . he's in surgery to have rods put in his broken arms. He's doing as good as can be expected. Sara is a different story. Her side of the car took the majority of the impact during the collision. It took an hour to get her out of the car. She's 'touch and go,' or that's at least what the doctors want to call it. Did you want to say good-bye to Sara just in case . . . _

His voice became strained and trailed off. Grissom had nothing more to say. There really wasn't much more to say. He was waiting for my answer, but the words were lodged in my throat. I was busy wondering if there was any meaning in all this suffering that my friends and I had to endure. There had to be some meaning to justify all the hurt. If not, fate was just a cruel mistress.

Grissom took me to the hospital where Catherine and Warrick were already waiting. We filled the majority of the tiny waiting room outside the surgical suites. We sat in silence, but I knew that none of our minds were being silent.

The doctor came through the double doors wearing blue scrubs that smelled of cheap cologne and sweat. He hesitated for a moment before asking if we were the family for a Ms. Sidle and a Mr. Sanders. Catherine snapped at him for stalling. Warrick quietly asked her to calm down a little bit.

_Mr. Sanders will be out of surgery soon. Ms. Sidle made it through the first of what will probably be many surgeries, but she has a long road in front of her. Her body is too weak to do anything but repair her wounds enough to stabilize her. The cosmetic damage will need to be repaired later. _

_You see, our blood supplies are low. Sara needs transfusions to replace the blood she lost in the accident, on the operating table, and from her surgical wounds. She's received a lot of our O negative blood. She's received all of our type B negative blood. The blood bank is trying to find donors to help her. We just can't do anymore._

_Sir, her injuries were very expansive. Her liver and lung were lacerated. Her left kidney was crushed. Her hip was fractured, and her left arm was broken in a variety of locations. I'm worried about increased intracranial pressure due to bruising of the brain. I'm worried about a lot of things when it comes to Ms. Sidle._

My mouth was so dry I could barely breathe. I understood how they felt whenever I found myself on a hospital gurney. I don't know how they managed to survive the shock two . . . three times.

My knees wobbled, and my stomach threatened to rebel. I could hear someone crying, but everything seemed so far away. I could have been the one crying and I wouldn't have even known. My brain felt numb.

"I want to see her," I said in a throaty voice.

"Nick, no. You should be at home resting," Catherine immediately protested.

"I need to see her. When she wakes up, I'll be the only one that understands . . . Greg, too," I argued. My voice was becoming louder and louder.

"Man, it's just not a good idea," Warrick replied.

"They aren't going to want to hear all the bullshit that people have been pushing my way these last few weeks," I replied.

"I think it might be a good idea," Grissom replied with a weak smile.

The doctor waved me towards him. I took a deep breath as he led me into an area full of ventilators and machines that made cacophonous noise. It was only luck that prevented me from being on one of those . . . or from being dead.

"She's under a lot of sedation," the doctor warned as he led me to a woman that I didn't recognize.

"That's Sara?" I asked.

"It's Ms. Sidle. I'll let you know when Mr. Sanders is out of surgery," the doctor said as he disappeared into the swarm of bodies attending to what seemed to be people barely skirting death.

"I hated you the first day that I met you," I said as I sat next to the hospital bed. I searched for a piece of skin that I could safely touch.

"I hated the way that Grissom looked at you. I guess I was jealous of how much you loved your job. I never loved it as much as you did," I rambled as I remembered the first time I met the slightly awkward Sara Sidle.

"Sar, I wish you hadn't lived to please him. I wish you would have been happy these last few years. You know, life's too short. Shit happens. I wish I would have told you that earlier. I wish I would have told Greg not to lose his innocence," I said.

"Remember that girl, the chaos theory girl that we found in the dumpster. I wish I hadn't been in that . . . you know, a few weeks ago. Then maybe it would have been someone else, but that's selfish to wish for. You have to make it through. The same way you made me promise to get better," I said.

"You just take your time getting better. I still have all the time in the world to be here . . . Catherine wouldn't let me in the lab even if I graveled. I was always lucky to have your friendship . . . I wish I would have told you that sooner," I replied as I held her right ring finger. It was the only piece of skin seemingly untouched by medical equipment. It was the last pure thing left.

FIN


End file.
